


Stay Alive

by Jen425



Series: Another side of the story - the fic [7]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Forgiveness, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 20:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16249649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jen425/pseuds/Jen425
Summary: Sept huit neuf





	Stay Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

“Where is my son!?” Alexander cried. Damn it! Eaker would  _ pay _ . Eaker would fucking  _ pay _ .

 

The doctor shook a little at his tone, and Alex would admit that he was practically running because the several-inches-taller doctor was stumbling on his feet.

 

“Mister Hamilton, come in,” he said, far too glibly sarcastic for the scene. “They brought him in a half an hour ago. He’s lost a lot of blood on the way—”

 

“Is he  _ alive _ ?”

 

The doctor nodded.

 

“Yes, but you have to understand—”

 

“Philip!”

 

Without hesitation, he ran to his son’s side. (His son. His sun. His  _ son… _ ) Philip smiled.

 

“Pa,” he said, shakily. “I did exactly as he said, Pa; I held my head up high.”

 

Alexander just nodded, stroking Philip’s curly hair, falling from its tie.

 

“Shhh,” he said. “I know, I know.”

 

“High,” Philip repeated.

 

“Shh, I know,” he says. “You did everything just right.”

 

“Even before we got to ten,” Philip gasped. “I was aiming for the sky… I was aiming for the sky.”

 

Alexander just continued to nod, cradling his son in his arms.

 

“I know,” he said. “Save your strength and stay—”

 

“ _ Alive _ .”

 

Eliza. Alexander turned around.

 

“Eliza.”

 

Eliza just ran to his side, to their son.

 

“Is he bleeding?” she asked. “Is she going to survive this? Who did this, Alexander. Did you know—”

 

“Mom,” Philip said. “I’m so sorry for forgetting what you taught me.”

 

“My son.”

 

“We played Piano.”

 

Eliza nodded, just like Alexander had been doing moments.

 

“I taught you piano,” she said softly. Philip smiled.

 

“You would put your hands on mine.”

 

Eliza laughed, soft and sad.

 

“You changed the melody every time.”

 

“I would always change the line.”

 

Eliza just nodded.

 

“Shh,” she said. “I know, I know.”

 

Philip just gasped another breath.

 

“I would always change the line,” he said again. In his peripheral, Alexander was fairly sure that his wife was barely holding back tears.

 

Again, Eliza replied. “Shhh, I know, I know… Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf.”

 

She sang, and Philip joined.

 

“Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf,” he sang. Eliza nodded.

 

“Good. Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf.”

 

“Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept…”

 

Philip trailed off as his eyes closed.

 

“Sept huit neuf,” Eliza repeated. “Sept huit…”

 

Alexander put a had on Philip’s chest, feeling the shaky rise and fall.

 

“He’s still life within him,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief. Eliza just buried herself in his chest as she sobbed.

 

“It was because of the Reynolds Pamphlet,” she said. Not a question. It was all people talked about, now, when they mentioned the Hamiltons. Alexander sighed.

 

“It was,” he said.

 

She sobbed even harder.

  
  
  


“You are an idiot,” Angie says, calmly. Honestly, what was Philip  _ thinking? _ If she lost him… she’d lose her mind. Frances and Theo and Alex, too. All of them, really. Including their parents. “But at least Mother and Father are talking again.”

 

Philip smiles sarcastically.

 

“Thank you, sister,” he said. “For that loving ‘I am so happy you’re alive’.”

 

Angie scoffed. Usually, she was the soft one, but her older brother had been an unbelievable level of idiot, and she seemed to be channeling her namesake.

 

“Still an idiot,” she said. “Theo and I both were close to breakdown when we still thought you would not survive this.”

 

Philip sighed.

 

“I did not mean to hurt you,” he said. “But Eaker couldn’t get away with saying such things about our mother and father.”

 

“Then call him out on paper.”

 

Philip laughed.

 

“Angie,” he said. “My dearest sister. Surely you know that words in that way are not my skill.”

 

Angie just sighed.

 

“Stupid male ego,” she said before collapsing onto her older brother in a hug. “Don’t you die on us.”

 

Philip just laughed.

 

“Sorry, Angie,” he said. “But you’re stuck with me.”

  
  
  


“Alexander?”

 

“Eliza.”

 

Eliza sighed.

 

“Alexander… I am  _ so _ sorry,” she said. “I have… no explanations, just fits of insanity. I… could have told you, at any point, but, instead, I… You…”

 

She feels a sob shake her.

 

“Philip was so close to death,” she said. “We almost  _ lost him _ … and it was by  _ my actions _ .”

 

Alexander… walked forwards… and he sighed.

 

“I… do not blame you,” he said. “My reaction, in the same situation, may very well have been far worse… and I suppose I had my own hand in the duel, Betsey. I do not blame you, but… forgiveness is harder.”

 

Eliza nodded.

 

“I understand,” she said, taking her husband’s hand. “But we can try.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @flaim-ita


End file.
